Redhawk Caldera lover of the russian queen

she wonders if the rocks could have crushed her like that tree had. her stomach recoils at the thought, and she sees clearly her mother trapped beneath that trunk, dead and yet still alive. it threatens to overcome her in that moment, and so with all her might does the yearling shove the thought down and away, swearing never to think of it again. her mother is gone.

"Hela." is all she offers him, and to his offer of safety, "ok." she doesn't believe it, not really—she'd thought blackfeather safe, had she not? but unmoored, with nothing but a wide world she has no interest in exploring and a home she can't go back to, it seems the best option. she stood, the pain still dulled. and in comparison to what she'd seen earlier that day, she knew her hurt didn't matter.